A/N: Oh my gosh, I'm FINALLY updating. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I've just been extremely busy. I've had this like over half way finished for at least a month, it was just difficult finding the motivation to sit down and complete it. So I'm sorry, I will try not to let myself do it again!

I hope you all haven't given up on this since it's taken me an eternity!

ENJOY

I know that there's no good excuse to start drinking at ten in the morning on a Wednesday, but I honestly couldn't think of anything else I would have rather been doing. Kenny didn't get off work until later that night; Ike was spending the day going over wedding plans with Sarah, and I needed something to take my mind off of Stan. So that's how I found myself sitting outside of Cartman's bar, my car still running as I debated on going inside.

Not an hour earlier I was standing in the grocery store, helping my brother with his awful punishment of being sent off to buy groceries. I swear, my mother never had the stomach to discipline him like she did me. Anyway, I ended up running into Wendy Testaburger, which I found odd because she was accepted to a college in California before Stan and I left for Seattle. She told me she was back in town for my brother's wedding, and I told her I didn't even know that they were friends. She freaked out on me, right in the middle of the frozen foods section, and started yelling about how I never paid attention to anyone besides Stan back in school, and what an insensitive asshole I am.

I guess I could have brushed our unusual encounter aside and attributed it to Wendy's overwhelming ability to bitch about any given subject, but it was what she said last that threw me off. I was fed up with listening to her accuse me of things I had never actually done and was just on the verge of walking away from her when she grabbed me by the arm and looked me dead in the eyes.

"We were engaged, you know. Before he ran away with you and left me in this shit hole." She nearly whispered, though her voice was still full of more venom than I ever thought possible in a human being.

I should have said more. I should have contradicted her, or asked her for more details, or told her she was fucking crazy, but all I could do was turn and walk away. Well, run would be a better word since I left my cart in the middle of the aisle and sprinted to the parking lot, where I stayed unlike Ike found me half an hour later. I picked my phone up about a million times during that period, scrolling through my contacts list and stopping at Stan's name, my finger hovering over the send button. But in the end I never called. My hands were shaking too much and I was afraid my voice would, too. Besides, how do you even start a conversation centered around the fact that your boyfriend's psycho ex-girlfriend cornered you in a grocery store and told you that he abandoned his fiancée to run off with you.

And that's how I found myself sitting outside of a bar at ten in the morning. It was my phone ringing that really made the decision to go in for me, as I checked the caller ID and realized it was Stan. I threw my phone onto the passenger seat of my car and slammed my door behind me, my mouth watering for strong alcohol.

As I walked up to the bar, I was able to appreciate the interior of it for the first time. When I had gone with Kenny it was too crowded to enjoy the surroundings but now, with only one other customer shoved away in the corner, I could tell that it was incredibly modern. There were several large black couches around a flat screen television near the back, a state of the art stereo system on the opposite side, and all of the booths were high backed and covered in shiny black leather.

There was no bartender behind the counter, so I sat on one of the cushy barstools and let my mind wander as I took in the décor.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Someone spoke up, nearly jolting me out of my seat. I looked up to see Cartman standing behind the counter, a mildly surprised look on his face and a rag slung over his shoulder.

"I need a drink." I demanded, giving him a look that said I clearly wasn't up for his bullshit.

Cartman stared blankly at me before bending down and pulling out a couple bottles of alcohol. I rested my head in my hand as I watched him expertly mix some drink I didn't recognize. He put the bottles back under the counter when he was done and set the glass in front of me, an expectant look on his face.

I shot him a cautious glance before picking the glass up and taking an experimental sip. My eyes watered as I felt the liquid burn down my throat and into my stomach, but I managed to keep it down. It actually felt good, like it was burning everything away.

"What's the matter, too hard for you?" Cartman sneered as he watched me struggle with the harshness of it.

"No, actually." I tipped the glass back and downed the rest of it, slamming it down on the counter as I finished. "Give me another."

Cartman blinked and then a smirk slipped on to his face as he pulled the bottles back out and refilled my glass.

"Drink up, Jew."

Eight shots and nearly twenty insults later, I was completely hammered and the filter that ran from my brain to my mouth was obviously malfunctioning as I began spilling my heart out to my only known enemy. Well, aside from those jerks that worked above me at the publishing company.

"Shit, that's what's gotten you so worked up?" Cartman questioned, his famous 'you're a fucking retard' face swimming before my eyes as I tried to keep my head up. "Why do you even care? It's Stan's fault for pussing out and ditching on Wendy. What do you have to do with it?"

The fact that Cartman hadn't realized Stan and I were together flashed a danger sign in my mind, warning me not to broach that particular subject. But of course, as soon as the thought ran through my head, it was spilling from my lips.

"Because Stan is my fucking boyfriend! He should have at least-" I was halted by the look that crossed over Cartman's face, registering just a few seconds later than it should have. "Well, fuck that." I mumbled, throwing back another drink as Cartman's fists clenched on the counter.

"I think you should leave now, Kyle." Cartman spoke with no emotion, his eyes starring blankly into mine.

"Whadder you talking about?" I slurred, a feeling of anger and rejection surging through me. "This is the first normal convers-la-tion that we've had in…" I paused while I thought back through the years. "Ever! I'm not leaving now."

"I swear Jew, if you don't get the fuck out of my bar right now, I will physically throw you out." Cartman threatened, his eyes growing black as they always did when he was upset.

"You're eyes are black." I observed, standing up from my barstool, the upper half of my body immediately falling over the counter. "Whoa! Doesn't really hit ya until you stand up, huh?"

"You're a fucking retard." Cartman spat, walking around the counter to stand next to me, the black of his pupils shrinking considerably.

I grappled blindly, my vision swirling as I found purchase on his arm.

"Fucking Marsh." He whispered, his eyes boring a crater right into my soul as I steadied myself against him.

"Yeah, f-fucking Marsh." I agreed, nodding my head vigorously and then groaning as that only made everything spin around much faster.

"I'll call Kenny to come get you." He declared, reaching into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans without breaking eye contact.

I laughed and patted him on his head, like he was a child. "Don't bother Kenny, he's still at work, stupid."

He rolled his eyes and motioned towards the clock above the bar. "It's nine-thirty, asshole."

"Oh, really?" My voice grew to an incredibly high pitch as I questioned him.

"Yes, really." He replied, shaking his head as he grabbed onto both of my shoulders and led me to a booth, easing me into it slowly. "Now just stay here."

I nodded again, forgetting that only made my vision swim like a hurricane of colors.

Cartman sighed as I grabbed my head, laying it down on the table and breathing heavily until the sudden wave of nausea passed. He hesitated beside me before sliding into the seat across from me, his phone already pressed to his ear.

"Hey," he answered, his voice sounding dull and controlled. He paused for a while, listening to Kenny talk before nodding to himself. "Yeah, he's here."

A hand placed on the table between us began beating out an unsteady rhythm as he continued listening to Kenny on the other line. "Could you just come get him? He's drunk out of his fucking Jew-infested mind."

I let my gaze wander over his face as he explained to Kenny why I was at his bar, and hadn't come to pick him up after he got off his shift at the gas station.

"Yeah, so could- will you stop fucking grinning at me like that, you creepy fucker?" Cartman suddenly spat, and it took my delayed reactions a few seconds to work out that he was talking to me. I quickly rearranged my face, but it must have looked completely ludicrous because I caught the faintest smile ghost across his lips.

"Okay, see you." Cartman lowered his phone from his ear and slipped it back into his pocket. "Kenny'll be here in a few minutes."

"Is he mad?"

"God- no. He was just… worried. He didn't know where you were, seeing as how you two have been attached by the fucking dick since you got back."

I felt my face scrunch up in a smile and the most unmanly giggle escaped past my lips. Cartman gave me a funny look and I saw that almost smile sweep across his face again.

"Did you just giggle like a girl?"

"Wha- no!"

"Don't lie, Jew. It's very unbecoming on you."

I opened my mouth to continue disagreeing, but Cartman talked over me. "Just sit here and keep quiet until Kenny comes for you." He ordered as he stood up. "I don't need you scaring my customers away."

I watched blearily as he walked away and the most insane notion to start crying flooded me. Of course I didn't though, because I'm a guy and guys just don't cry. Especially when they're drunk. And especially not because of Eric Cartman.

So I sat in my booth and let my head loll on my shoulder as I waited for Kenny. There was no shortage for entertainment, as the bar had somehow managed to fill up without me noticing. The music was pumping loud and the people were pressed up against each other, barely any space between their grinding bodies. It was a lot darker than I remembered it being earlier, also, and it was making me feel lethargic. And dizzy.

"Hey, man!" A voice shouted near my ear, making me jump, my eyes snapping open. "What do you think you're doing, running off to Cartman and getting plastered without me?"

"Kenny! I'm so glad that you came!"

"Of course I came. I couldn't let you stay here alone with Cartman, who knows what he would have done with you."

"Cartman was fine, he took care of me." I corrected.

Kenny gave me a strange look as he sat in the booth across from me. "How much have you had to drink today?"

"Oh, um, I don't know. I started around… ten. Why?"

"Because you're obviously having drunken delusions if you think Cartman was taking care of you."

"He really was!" I defended. "He was nicer than I've ever seen him!"

"Okay, Kyle." Kenny laughed to himself as he flagged down a waitress.

"Hello! Can I help you guys?" A small girl with her black hair tied back into a bun questioned as she came to a stop at our table. She looked at us expectantly, a cheery grin on her face and a hand with long, red nails resting on her hip.

"Hey babe," Kenny greeted, giving the girl a quick once-over before fixing his grey eyes on her wide, green ones. "Just get me a beer. And tell Cartman to get his fat ass over here."

"Sure thing, Ken." She consented, giving him a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

"Why do you want to bother Cartman? I think he wants me to leave."

"Screw that, we're all getting drunk off our asses tonight! I don't know what he thought he was going to do, but he's hanging with us."

"I think he thought he was going to work…"

Kenny glanced at me as he shoved a cigarette in his mouth. "Fuck, Kyle. Haven't I told you that Cartman owns this bar? He can have any of his employees run it without him, and they aren't allowed to complain or he'll fire them. He can do whatever he wants."

"Well, what if I just wanna go home?"

"Then I'll call you a pussy and tell you that you'll have to walk because Cartman gave me your keys."

I reached in my pockets as Kenny pulled my keys out of his coat, dangling them in front of his face through a cloud of smoke.

"Fuck you."

"I'll need a few more drinks, first." Kenny replied, giving me a wink as our waitress reappeared.

"Here's your beer, Ken. Cartman said he'll be out in a few minutes." She reported and turned to me. "Can I get you anything, hon?"

"I think I'm good for tonight."

"Ah, shut up!" Kenny demanded, giving me a glare. "Just tell Cartman to bring him out a drink."

The girl gave Kenny a nod and turned on her heel, heading off to find Cartman again.

"So, how did you end up here?" Kenny questioned me, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth to take a drink from his bottle. "You had me worried sick, you know. I waited for twenty minutes outside the gas station, thinking you were just running late or something."

"I don't really remember." I replied, giving him a small shrug, trying to think back on what had led me to Cartman's bar. "I was at the grocery store with my brother, and I saw Wendy-"

"Wendy Testaburger?"

"Yeah. We talked… and she told me that she and Stan were engaged before we left. Then I came here."

"Wait, what? She told you that she and Stan were engaged?"

"Uh," I paused for a second, thinking back on our brief conversation. It all seemed a bit fuzzy at the moment, though. "Yeah. Pretty sure."

"That can't be true. Is that why you came here and started drinking? Because of Stan and Wendy?"

"Yeah. I was sitting outside the bar, and then he called me. I didn't answer- I couldn't think of anything I could have to say to him right now."

"Kyle, I think Wendy is just being her naturally manipulative self." Kenny consoled, reaching across the table to pat my arm. "She's probably just pissed that you took Stan away from her and she's trying to get revenge. I wouldn't put any stock into it, really."

"No, it's true. I talked to my brother after, and he said that he was the only person Wendy told about it. Apparently they were like super secret best friends back in high school."

"Wendy and Ike? No fucking way."

"That's what I said. But then she just got all bitchy and told me I was too blinded by Stan to see what was right in front of me… or something like that."

"This doesn't sound right." Kenny stated, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette. "Stan would never do something like that."

"Whatever." I replied, leaning back in my seat and gazing out at the crowd right as Cartman came bursting through it.

"What the fuck do you want, Kenny?" He blared over the masses of people and pumping music.

"Hello to you too, my best friend in all of South Park." Kenny greeted sarcastically, giving Cartman a shit-eating grin.

"I can't deal with you two shit heads tonight, I'm trying to work."

"That's bullshit. You never have to work."

"Well, maybe I'm finally trying to earn my way."

Kenny scoffed exaggeratedly and scooted over in his booth, patting the spot next to him. "Come on, it's all nice and warm for ya. I even ordered you a beer."

"That's yours, I just saw Heather getting it for you." Cartman responded bitterly, but slid into the booth regardless.

"All right!" Kenny threw an arm around Cartman in joy and gave me a toothy smile. "Just the three of us tonight- we're going to fuck shit up!"

"Why just the three of us? Where's Butters?" I questioned, feeling a little tired but substantially more focused on my surroundings.

"Oh, I guess I meant the four of us. Butters should be here in a little bit; he said he had to stop by the store to get some scrap booking stuff."

Both Cartman and I went silent as we stared open-mouthed at Kenny. Cartman was eventually the first to find his voice.

"Uh, faggot much?"

"What?" Kenny questioned, looking genuinely confused at our reaction.

"Butters… scrap books?" I continued to elaborate for Cartman, who had lost the right words again.

"Well, I mean not all the time, but he was really excited that you're in town, so he wanted to make one for you. Dammit you guys, now you've made me ruin the surprise! Butters made me promise not to tell."

"I promise I'll pretend like I had no idea." I assured a little half-heartedly. It was odd that Butters wanted to make me a scrap book, sure, but it was Butters. I figured nothing should shock me about him after learning about Professor Chaos back in the fourth grade.

"Kay, thanks man. He'd be pretty upset with me if he knew that I'd told you."

I nodded in affirmation and picked up the beer Cartman had set on the table for me. "Since when did you become such a little bitch, by the way?"

Kenny started like he was going to be angry and then caught the light-hearted expression on my face, hid slightly by my beer. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on. Really Kenny, I always pegged you as the guy in that sort of situation, but I guess I see who wears the pants now."

"Whatever, I bet you bend over like a little bitch for Stan." Kenny snapped back, realizing only a second too late exactly what he'd said.

The three of us grew uncomfortably quiet, and I caught an acute tensing in Cartman's jaw, no doubt from the exertion of trying not to spew out some demeaning comment.

"Besides," Kenny started quietly, obviously trying to break the awkward moment. "Butters and me aren't like that."

I cast a cautious glance to Cartman, who was sipping his beer with a far away look on his face, before speaking. "Yeah sure, Kenny. I've seen the way you guys act together."

The blond simply shrugged and cast his eyes down to pick at the sleeve of his orange hoodie. "We're just really good friends. Kinda like how you and me used to be."

He gave me this horribly pathetic look as he spoke, his blue eyes all large and glistening. "Don't try to play the horrible friend card to change the subject."

"It was worth a try." Kenny sighed and rested his forearms on the table.

"So, what exactly does your guys' situation in tale? Do you like sleep in the same bed, or do you take the couch? And who tops? Please tell me it's you, or I might lose what little respect I have for you."

"It's honestly not like that!" Kenny exclaimed, looking upset and casting a pleading look at Cartman.

Cartman starred lazily back at Kenny and took an exasperated breathe. "He's telling the truth. Nothing's going on between them. Yet."

"Yet?" I repeated, coaxing him to continue.

"Kenny has a major boner for him, but he doesn't have the balls to do anything." Cartman explained, sounding bored and a little irritated.

"Well shit, Kenny. I never knew you could be such a pussy."

"Fuck off, Kyle. You don't know what it's like."

"What could possibly be the problem? We've all known that Butters is a fruit since fourth grade. Just make a move."

"It's not that simple." Kenny stated, a ring of finality in his voice that left no room for further questioning. Which was okay, since Butters stumbled out of the crowd only a few seconds later.

"H-hey guys!" He stuttered, his face bright red and his clothing disheveled.

"Butters, are you okay?" Kenny questioned with concern, sitting up straight in his seat as soon as he laid eyes on him.

"Yeah, I'm fine! It was just hard to find you guys with all these people here!" He assured softly, averting his eyes as he sat down next to me.

"Are you sure?" Kenny leaned across the table and grabbed Butters face with one hand, forcing him to look at him. Butters tried to twist his face away, but Kenny held fast, a deep crease forming in his brow as he got a better look at his face.

"Why is your eye swollen?" Kenny's voice sounded strained, like he was trying to hold himself back. "And why have you been crying?"

"I'm fine, Kenny!" Butters shouted, grabbing his wrist with both his hands and shoving it away from him.

Kenny leaned back in his seat and stared with lidded eyes at Butters, who continued to hang his head. "Will you guys excuse us for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, of course." I agreed, watching silently as Kenny slid out of the booth and stood next to Butters, waiting for him to follow. When he finally stood up, Kenny gently placed an arm around him and led him outside.

"What the hell do you think happened?" I asked Cartman once they were gone.

He shrugged and took a gulp of beer. "I have no idea. But it looks like Butters is going to have one hell of a shiner tomorrow."

"Does this happen a lot? I mean, Butters showing up looking like he was jumped by someone?"

Cartman was quiet for so long that I almost thought he was just going to ignore my question until he finally spoke in a near whisper. "It's happened a few times."

"Why? Who's doing it?"

"All of the gay hating hicks that live in this town." Cartman replied, a bitter undertone betraying his blank expression.

"Why doesn't he tell someone?"

"Who is he going to tell, the police? I'm pretty sure some of them are in on it."

"How often does it happen?" I asked quietly, feeling desperately hopeless. How could anyone think of hurting Butters? He was the most innocent, harmless person I'd ever met.

"Anytime they can catch him alone, usually at night. Ever since the first time Kenny has been reluctant to let him go anywhere by himself, but since you've been back he's been neglecting that a bit."

I swallowed dryly and let my gaze fall on the table, a feeling of guilt settling in my stomach like a cancer. Cartman and I remained in silence as we waited for Kenny and Butters to come back, which didn't take too long. At least they both looked marginally more upbeat than before.

"Sorry about that, guys." Kenny apologized, shoving Cartman over in the booth so he could sit down.

"It's no problem. Is everything okay?" I inquired, giving Butters a concerned look which he replied to with a toothy grin.

"Sure is! What are we doin' tonight, fellas?"

"Getting the hell out of here." Cartman suggested, or demanded, looking surly.

"Why do you never want to drink at your own bar?" Kenny questioned, shaking his head at the brunette. "It's the only place where we can get free drinks!"

"Only because you assume every drink is free and leave without paying! It's horrible for my profits if I let the four of us drink for free all night long; therefore we are getting out of here."

Kenny rolled his eyes and mouthed 'douche' to Butters and me across the table. I shook my head and tried to mask my grin as Butters covered his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking.

"All right, I guess if we have to leave we should get going." Kenny decided, glancing at the large Miller Lite clock above the bar. "It's already past eleven."

The rest of us nodded in agreement and got out of our booth to make our way to the exit. We all stepped outside and stood in front of the door for a few minutes, taking in the dramatic change of atmosphere; from loud and pulsing to unbelievably still and silent.

"Well," I started, glancing around at everyone. "Where are we going?"

"The only other bar in town." Kenny replied, his head tipped up and looking at the stars through the cloud of thick smoke produced by his cigarette.

As we all started towards the parking lot, Kenny grabbed my arm, making me slow down a bit.

"Do you mind riding with Butters?" He whispered, his breathe forming a haze of fog in the cold.

"No, not at all."

"Kay, thanks man."

I nodded and sped up a bit until I was walking next to the small blond.

"Hey Butters," I started, throwing an arm around his shoulders. I felt him jump a little, but he smiled at me nonetheless. "You care if I ride with you?"

Butters gave a suspicious glance over his shoulder at Kenny, who was just getting into his own car. "Of course you can ride with me, Kyle." He agreed, though for the first time his naturally joyful tone seemed a bit forced.

I paused before getting into Butters small, white ford and looked over at Kenny, just a few cars down, who was waiting to follow us out of the parking lot. He was obviously extremely overprotective of Butters, wanting me to keep an eye on him even on the short drive across town. I felt unbelievably awful knowing that Butters getting attacked tonight could have been my fault, so I felt like I had no other option but to accept. This new side of Kenny was something I had never seen before though, and it intrigued me. Had he always been like this, but never found the right person to trigger it, or was this some change in demeanor brought around by whatever strange things that had appeared to happen since my absence?

I sighed, hoping to find a chance to figure out what exactly had been going on around here before it was too late, and I had to go back to Seattle.

A/N: I hope you all liked it! I felt like it was a little bumpy in some parts, but I kind of liked the final outcome. Expect the next update to be much sooner than the last!

Oh, and as always I want to know all of my readers favorite parts! It really brightens my day :) And if you're wondering, my favorite part was when Kyle was drunk and Cartman had to take care of him.

Don't forget to review, guys! It will help motivate me to not take so long on the next chap... :)